Convergence
by jrmi2
Summary: The arrival of Baby Rizzoli shakes up Jane's views on everything around her. A series of murders tied to a clinic which helps women to obtain safe abortions draws Jane in deeply, including a profound attachment to a passionate pro-choice journalist whose life is targeted. Confused and bereft, Maura fills the void left by Jane by spending time with Detective Riley. Eventual Rizzles.
1. Baby Rizzoli

Jane handed Tommy the bottle and watched him lower it to his infant son's mouth. Eyes closed, Baby Rizzoli latched onto the nipple at his lips and instinctually began to suck. Tommy smiled at Jane.

"I never feel like I'm holding him right, you know?"

Jane took in the sight of her brother holding the baby and smiled back.

"Well he looks comfortable, and you look, well, oddly enough, kinda like a father," she finally commented.

"Gee, thanks sis." Tommy's eyes greyed a little, never quite sure how to respond to his sister's sarcasm.

Jane sat beside Tommy in front of the couch, absent mindedly staring at Maura's wall mounted TV, but thinking about baby Rizzoli.

"Tommy, you gotta name this kid before Ma does. You can't send him off to preschool with Baby Rizzoli on his lunch box. Ma's been looking at the Rizzoli family genealogy for days now. If you don't come up with something pronto, the kid's name will probably end being Giuseppe IV or Octavius X. And I'm not even going to walk down the middle name road...you've gotta do it little brother. Something normal, you know? Like Mike, Matt, Mark...maybe something worthy and apostle-like, for Ma's sake, but nice and short."

"What name do you like sis?" Tommy quizzed.

"Uh-uh." Jane shook her head. "Your kid, your pick. He's a Rizzoli, that's good enough for me."

Tommy looked at his still suckling son.

"Hey little man? Help me out here. Jane says I have to give you a name before Ma comes up with one none of us can live with. Gimme a hint, what kind of kid are you going to be?"

The baby suddenly moved his head, ridding himself of the bottle, back and forth, obviously done and with a little cry.

"Ok, ok..." Tommy laughed. "you're done. Got it. Showing your personality already huh? Like enough is enough right?"

Jane laughed. "The Rizzoli family patience rears its ugly head again."

"But Jane, he's got a cute head..." Tommy couldn't resist, not even verbalizing the 3 in his reverse mental countdown before his older sister rolled her eyes.

"Geez Tommy, you sound like Maura!" Jane sneered at him. "And it's only cute when Maura does it. Because she can't help herself. But you, little brother are NOT naïve. Therefore, it is NOT cute."

"Ah, but Janie, I am SO cute!" Tommy countered, lighting up his best dimpled smile for her.

"Yeah Tommy. Cute. As in looking. Like a puppy. Like a baby orangutan. Like a baby freaking turtle. You look innocent bro, but you are definitely more grizzly cub, wolf pup...all innocent eyes and dimples. It's in the DNA little brother, Rizzoli material. Not cute."

Jane shot a quick smile at her brother, then ruffled his hair. "Yeah Tommy, you're cute. And Baby R. will be too...hopefully he got some of the Rizzoli genes". Jane thought of Lydia and inwardly winced. "We are definitely cute". Jane felt a beer coming on and was glad little R. was in daddy's arms right now.

Tommy was staring at at his son again.

"I like Colin," he said finally.

"Colin?!" Jane flared." And which freaking apostle was he again?"

"I don't want my son to have some biblical name sis. And definitely no four-word-the-third Italian ancestry crap either. Colin's a good name. Solid. Smart. And Ma can't add to it...think about it, Janie, Frankie, Tommy? None of us sound like grown ups when she's talkin'. What's she gonna do, call him Collie!?"

Despite herself, Jane laughed. "You've got a point there bro." She paused. "And probably". They both laughed .

"Thank you," he nodded. They both watched the TV, mutually distracted and silent for awhile. Occasionally, Jane glanced over to see Tommy gazing at and petting his son, cooing even.

Jane felt distressed somehow, anxious; her eyes burrowed holes in a TV that was giving her nothing back. Tommy on the other hand was putting out, and proudly. It was endearing and Jane felt relief. But she felt disturbed also. _Colin_.

She had been with Maura when the doctor learned the dead young man on the doctor's autopsy table was her biological brother. It was a time period that had been intense. For both of them. Events then had ignited, flamed out, reignited, united, and the fire had raged. Openly. Mercilessly. Maura at the centre of one, Jane another. They had held on, stuck together, survived. And now, Jane realised glancing around Maura's house now so thoroughly and visibly inhabited by Rizzolis, they had united in other ways. Safety? Solidarity? Sanity? All events, though past, were still present, lurking, and Jane and Maura had without thinking made each other the centre of their connected universe. _Frightening_, Jane thought. _And so completely and morbidly dysfunctional. _

"Maura had a brother named Colin," Tommy finally spoke again.

Jane registered her brother's declaration. "Yeah, so?" She shot back. "That did not end well Tommy".

"No, I know. But she wanted to know him, wondered what he was like, right? He was a genius, with bad parents, right? So now, this way, she'd have a chance to start at ground zero. Get to know this little guy from the beginning. Make an impact on his life. I think she'd like that, Jane." Tommy was so utterly and vulnerably convincing, his face earnest.

Jane raged inside.

"Colin was a class A screw up Tommy!" The beer itch was growing, and Jane got up off the couch to scratch it.

"Janie, look at me." Tommy pleaded with his eyes. "That's me too. Class A screw up. All the way. A name is a name. I want to give this kid every chance I can. We've exhausted the Rizzoli family names. Why not pick a Maura family name? She's gonna be there you know. Maybe teach him to eat his veggies, and all those freaking vitamese reasons why. She can teach him his prime numbers, the periodic table of elements, give him a little play stethoscope. Me and Maura can teach him to play chess. You and Frankie can take him to little league, play cops and robbers. This kid will have everything Jane. He can be Colin, a kid with a second chance. And you gotta admit, it's a helluva lot better than Tommy Jr. or Giuseppe, or any of that other shit Ma's looking into. Hell, if Maura's gonna be part of this, I want her to be a real part of this. I want to give my baby a chance to be genius, you know?" Tommy was heated, but not angry. He'd actually thought about this. Not for long granted, but the wheels had turned quickly. Jane was silently impressed, even if she still didn't like it. And she didn't like it at all.

Jane stood by the fridge now, beer open, gulping. She would need another soon. What the fuck was wrong with her? Nerves charting new routes through her body and head, she felt angry. And sad. And she hated loving Tommy and this new, raw emotional side. Loving his son, dreaming for a good future, reclaiming a past for Maura. Jane didn't do emotions. Not well anyway. Anger was winning. It usually did when exposure and possible loss were on the other side. She finished her beer and cracked open another.

"Tommy," she spoke harshly, "what makes you think Maura would want to open an old wound and freshen it up a bit? What makes you think you know Maura well enough to decide your son gives her another shot at her dead brother? What makes you think you need to include Maura at all?" Jane's eyes were fire, daggers aimed right at her brother and his infant son. She gulped more beer, preparing for another swig before she'd finished swallowing the first one.

Tommy looked confused. And angry in turn. Jane recognized that look.

_Shit, don't throw the baby Tommy, not just to get in my face bro_. Jane suffered a stab of conscience. She shut up.

Tommy stood up, bracing his son against his shoulder, holding him tightly, snugly, and came at Jane.

His eyes became steely. He was clearly pissed.

"Jane," he seethed quietly, "I don't know what's going on in your head, but are not going to tell me how to raise my son! I trust your instincts with Ma, and I will listen to ANYONE with advice I need to follow. But do not tell me how - or how far - to involve Maura. She's family Jane! You brought her in, and we all fell hard. Maybe me more than anyone." Tommy's eyes softened, he loved Maura and Jane knew that. "Maura's gonna be here for this kid Jane, and she's gonna help shape him, just like the rest of us. I want my son to learn Maura's ways the same way he learns the Rizzoli ways. She is in a league we can only dream about, he could do a helluva lot worse than her! I don't understand you sis! What are you gonna do? Run her off? Get rid of your best friend? For what? She's part of the furniture for chrissake! No, WE are part of HER furniture! This is her house, her couch, her TV, her kitchen, and she invited us...the whole crazy freaking bunch of us...Jane, we're family for chrissakes! Any minute Maura's gonna walk through that door! With OUR MA! We made her family, she made us family! And now you wanna cut her out?! Jane, you seriously make me crazy!" He stopped, as if rewinding what he'd just said in his head and playing it back. "Maura will love it if I name my son Colin," he stated finally, quietly.

Tommy rocked the baby and moved back to the couch. He whispered into baby R's ear, over and over. Quietly. Parentally. Her little brother was acting like a daddy. A good daddy even.

Jane felt emotional, but still combative. Somehow she knew this was her problem though. Tommy made sense. And it pissed her off that Tommy made sense. Why was she feeling so tense about an act that represented such respect and kindness on his part? Why did it bother her that Tommy wanted to give Maura a chance to reclaim her past in some small way? Why did it unnerve her that Maura was just so part of all of this? At the centre even. Every time she turned around, there was Maura. And she wanted Maura there. Kind, sweet, earnest, Maura. Her Maura. It struck her hard, the pain palpable. She didn't want to share Maura. That was the problem. Maura had become everything to everyone in her family, and Jane didn't like it. Not one bit. _And THAT Rizzoli, makes you a first class asshole! Get a grip and lighten up. Go watch television with your brother and your nephew. No more grief about Tommy wanting to name his son Colin. Just shut up for a change._

Jane sighed heavily, taking another long swig of beer and returned to the couch. Putting her hand on Tommy's arm, she smiled in truce. "Maura will probably love it bro. You should ask her."

Tommy flashed his sister a thousand watt smile and settled back on the couch, his son still cradled in his arms. Jane leaned back with her beer and tried to focus on the television, still unsettled but feeling calmer. She fiddled with the remote and found a news station. She stopped it there. Maybe a little news would help draw her out of herself and back into the big world around her.


	2. Little House on the Prairie

"Lloyd gives me the creeps," Jane muttered at the television, more to herself than to be heard. But Tommy looked over at her, expectantly, waiting for the explanation he felt sure was coming. Jane felt him looking. "Well just look at him Tommy." Now that she had an audience, Jane was willing to continue.

"I'm looking sis. What am I looking at exactly?" Baby R. was sleeping soundly on Tommy's legs, which he'd stretched out, feet crossed on Maura's coffee table. _Like me_, Jane thought somewhat begrudgingly.

"Looks like Romney." She declared finally, as if that explained it all. "Only...more...um...artificial? But still like Romney," she concluded, gesturing toward the TV.

"So you like Obama?"Tommy asked good-naturedly. He didn't really care one way or the other, he was just humouring his apparently restless sister.

"I didn't say that." Jane drained her beer. Her second. In less than an hour. On a Saturday afternoon. In front of her brother who battled addiction problems and his possibly impressionable infant son. And she knew it would not be her last. "I just don't like Romney."

"You're gonna have to pick one sis, the election is less than two months away."

Standing up, Jane headed to the fridge. Self fulfilling prophecy. She placed her empty bottle in its case on the floor and pulled out number three. She kept her view of the TV, but leaned back against Maura's counter.

"I don't know Tommy. I mean, it's not like Obama has propelled the country forward with rocket boosters or anything, but at least he hasn't set it back a hundred years either." Jane looked thoughtful. "Men like Romney" she said finally. "All the polls show that. But he's scaring the hell out of women. And, well, poor people...minorities...gay people..." she trailed off. "Oh crap, listen to me..." she said, shaking her head. "The golden rule: never discuss religion or politics with friends or family. Or something like that. Maura would know exactly. Never mind me Tommy, today is just not me...at my finest." She added, smiling weakly. _Nope, not by a long shot._ She stopped talking and stared back at the TV. Sam Lloyd was flashing his best artificial smile and gearing up for a segue...Jane knew from years of watching WJZT exactly when Lloyd was ready to hand the spotlight over to one of his colleagues, however briefly.

"_...in local news, Brookline Police have called in the Massachusetts State Police Bomb Squad to investigate an early morning explosion at a woman's health clinic on Harvard Street, the first violence at the clinic since Shannon Lowney was shot and killed by John Salvi in 1994. WJZT correspondent Susan Mathers is at the scene with a live report"..._

Jane silently shook her head as the scene switched live to Mathers outside the small clinic, surrounded by demonstrators and trying desperately to keep her layered blonde locks out of her face in the wind.

"_...thanks Sam. At 4:57 this morning, Brookline police were called in by residents of the quiet neighborhood to investigate sounds and sightings of explosion activity from the small clinic behind me. The health services clinic, which subscribes primarily to women seeking safe pregnancy terminations, has not been a target of violence since 1994 when lone crusader, and pro-life gunman John Salvi, shot and killed receptionist Shannon Lowney. Sources say the clinic has sustained heavy internal damage, but so far no word from police on the extent of damages, what type of explosives were involved in the attack, or whether further explosives have since been uncovered. We do know the building was unoccupied at the time, and thankfully no one was hurt. A large area surrounding the clinic has been sealed off to the public as investigations continue, but you can see all around me that demonstrators are out in numbers to share their thoughts on the violence. Sadly, some see this act as heroic. Brookline Police are working with State Police and with the Boston Police Department to strategize around further protests and demonstrations, which are already starting to crop up in the Boston area. For the record, John Salvi, Shannon Lowney's killer, was eventually captured 2 years later in Norfolk, Virginia after murdering another clinic worker in that area. Salvi pleaded insanity, but was tried and convicted of both murders. This is Susan Mathers, reporting for WJZT, back to you Sam..._

Jane had registered the return of Maura and her mother, who were quietly laying shopping bags on the counter and table. But she was lost in the senselessness of the report she'd just witnessed. Still processing for a moment, she continued to stare at the television.

"Hey Ma, Maur..." she finally said, trying to shake off the heaviness she was feeling.

"What was that all about?" Angela asked, grateful she finally had her children's attention.

"Abortion clinic bombing," Tommy volunteered. "This morning. No one was in the building."

"I'm glad no one was hurt," Maura commented. "I'm thankful to live in a country where everyone has the right to protest, but explosives are an excessive expression of dissent and violence is so profoundly unnecessary."

"I don't know how they can do it," Tommy questioned from the couch. "Women, I mean...get rid of their babies." He was looking at baby R. "What if Lydia had done it? This little guy wouldn't be here now..."

"Tommy," Jane snapped. "REALLY? You don't get it, do you!? Lydia had every reason in the world to terminate that pregnancy!" Jane was clearly flustered."Pop runs out on her, you're nowhere to be found, her mother's a wreck, she's got no home, no education, no job...she can barely take care of herself. Say it's you Tommy, what do you do?! If Ma hadn't stepped up to the plate, that baby could have, maybe should have been history!" Jane paced, on the verge of losing it completely. "You know Tommy, not every woman out there can just look up Dr. Maura Isles in the phone book, dump their baby on her doorstep, and just know that Dr. Isles and the Rizzolis will take care of it! Honestly Tommy, you need to grow a brain..." She trailed off, having said quite enough she thought, and not wanting to wage war with her brother in front of his baby.

"Okay, okay...okay sis. I hear ya, ok?"

"And so did most of the neighbors I'm sure..." Angela muttered, barely audible, not happy with the transaction playing out in front of her...

"Just calm down Jane," Tommy continued. "I was just thinking out loud, ok? I was just looking at him, at my son, and maybe just happy Lydia didn't do that...I'm not so good with words sometimes Janie. You know that. So just relax, I didn't mean anything by it."

Jane exhaled sharply, biting her lip and tapping her fingers frantically on the side of her beer bottle.

"Sorry Tommy. I know you didn't mean anything by it. It's just, you know, dangerous thinking. Innocent little thoughts grow into bigger, uglier thoughts. I guess that bothers me. Look, you already know I'm having kind of a bad day...my head's not in the right place. I'm glad baby R. is here too. I'm just...I don't know, just tired I guess..." she trailed off again, wishing she could click her heels together three times and end up somewhere else, anyplace else. She didn't notice Maura studying her, quietly but intently.

Angela busied herself in the kitchen, but noticing the sudden silence, took advantage of the potential to create harmony. "I don't know what the two of you are all worked up about, but it's a silly argument. And you know better than to discuss abortion in my presence. I'm Catholic and it's disrespectful to talk about such things when...well when you're Catholic mother is standing right in front of you. I think we have more important things to discuss in this house than...well than THAT!" Angela looked around, Jane and Tommy were paying attention at least...Maura was still studying Jane, probably intuiting what was going on with her eldest child as she so often did. "Ok, so, what are we going to have for dinner? Now THAT is important..."

Maura finally turned away from Jane, still looking pensive – and if Angela knew her "other" daughter as well as she thought she did, a diatribe of some sort was forthcoming.

"Actually Angela," Maura began, looking quite serious but not the slightest bit ruffled, "it really is quite important. Jane Roe vs. Dallas County District Attorney Henry Wade, more commonly referred to as Roe vs. Wade – not her real name of course – was a landmark decision by the United States Supreme Court on the issue of abortion. The case was argued and reargued over a period of years until the Supreme Court finally issued its decision on January 22, 1973, with a 7-to-2 majority vote in favor of Roe. Advocates of the decision have described it as vital to the preservation of women's rights, personal freedom, and privacy. Denying the right to abortion has been equated with compulsory motherhood, and scholars have argued ever since that bans on abortion violate the Thirteenth Amendment, and is therefore unconstitutional. So, if you believe in the constitution, which most Americans do, you believe in every woman's right to decide whether or not to carry a pregnancy to term, or to terminate that pregnancy based on a personal belief that termination is in the best interest of the woman who is pregnant."

Maura felt three sets of eyes boring into her from three different directions. She glanced around. Tommy looked stunned, Jane amused, Angela stormy. She felt self conscious suddenly. "Of course," she concluded, as only Maura could, "not everyone agrees with that position. I simply meant to point out that it really is quite important". She turned away from her audience and pretended to be enthralled with a tea cup.

"It's a sin," Angela mumbled, and went back to unpacking groceries. But as with all situations Rizzoli and Isles, she was not about to let a little debate about abortion rain on her family parade. "Ok, I'm going to try this one more time," she stated, "WHAT does everyone want for dinner?"

Jane felt herself deflating. The beer was making her a little sleepy and pleasantly less edgy. She was more tired than hungry, and the thought of another night with Maura AND family helped her to decide that a night alone in her own apartment was better than another night of Angela-dominated domesticity. She could play online Scrabble, write a book, watch a Red Sox re-run, call a 1-900 number...anything to break that feel of monotony that had been growing in her lately.

"You know what Ma?" Jane started, draining her beer and placing it with the previous empties in the case on the floor. "I'm feeling kind of tired. I haven't been home in days. I think I'm going to head back to my place for the night. But you kids have fun." She flashed her most dazzling smile, lest any of them should read more into her decision than necessary, or worse, worry about her.

Angela just stared at her in surprise. Maura turned around quickly and shot her a cocked eyebrow. Tommy was playing with the baby and didn't react at all.

Before the cajoling started, Jane walked purposefully to the couch, picking her gym bag off the floor and reaching over Tommy to grab her sweatshirt. "Have a good night little man." She kissed baby R. on the forehead quickly and ruffled Tommy's hair. "You too little bro."

"Janie," Angela started, unable to help herself. "At least stay for dinner". Maura remained silent, but continued to watch with interest.

"No Ma, I've already decided. I've got some stuff I wanna get done." Jane hugged her mother, knowing this would appease her to some degree. Jane didn't do hugs.

"Ok Jane," Angela conceded, clearly disappointed, but as Jane suspected mollified somewhat by the hug.

"I'll drive you home Jane," Maura stated rather than asked, drawing Jane's eyes with hers to the three empty beer bottles on the floor before grabbing her purse from the counter. Jane knew better than to protest.

"Thanks Maur, that'd be great". Jane hurried toward the door, escape mere seconds away, Maura keeping up behind her.

"I'll be back soon." Maura gave a little wave to the still stunned Angela and closed the door behind her.

Outside, Jane was pacing back and forth beside Maura's car.

"Jesus Maur..." Jane looked to Maura, clearly expecting her friend to divine her thoughts as always. Maura met Jane's pleading eyes, but said nothing. Jane was pouting, and Maura was determined to let her do it – without intervention.

"I had to get out of there Maura. I'm sorry. I felt like the walls were closing in on me. I felt..." Jane thought for a minute. "No I feel...I feel claustrophobic."

Maura urged Jane to continue with her eyes. It was all the encouragement Jane needed.

"I mean its Saturday night Maura. I wanna go somewhere, do something. Dinner, a movie...a walk along the harbour. Dancing, the Boston Marathon, Yoga, anything! God, I'd kill for some Chinese takeout, a few drinks, some grown up conversation, maybe a DVD..."

Maura's eyes twinkled a little, clearly amused. A flustered Jane was always entertaining. Adorable even. "So, you want to do something with _me_?" Maura asked playfully.

"Yeah Maura, of course, who else!?" Jane's look was wide-eyed and skeptical, her voice slightly agitated, as if Maura would have had to be an idiot savant to miss her meaning.

Maura laughed finally. Jane could be so precious sometimes.

"Maura!" Jane challenged. "What the hell are you laughing at? This is so not funny! I'm going crazy and you're laughing at me..."

"No Jane," Maura straightened out her expression before Jane went down the wrong path with her interpretations. "I'm laughing with you."

"But I'm not laughing Maura!" Jane punched the words out, exasperated.

Maura smiled indulgently at her friend. "Post Parental Depression" she stated, opening the passenger door, and nudging Jane to get in. Jane shot her a wide-eyed question mark look, but said nothing. Ok, now we'll get somewhere Maura thought as she circled the car and settled in behind the wheel.

"Post Parental Depression..." Jane muttered to herself as Maura started the car. "So," she started, "you're saying that...wait..." Jane struggled to grasp Maura's intended meaning. "Maura you just made that up, didn't you?!"

"I don't lie Jane, you know that. Making something up, even to comfort a friend and give meaning to an unexplained phenomenon that is clearly making that friend feel distressed, is a form of lying." Maura kept her eyes on the road

"Right," Jane conceded and got back to the business of understanding. "Ok, so you're saying that I'm depressed because Tommy just had a baby?" It was Jane's turn to play.

"No Jane. Lydia had the baby. And yes Tommy is the father, and therefore technically the parent in this case. But who has actually been looking after the baby the past few weeks?"

"Ma," Jane stated simply.

Maura chuckled. "Well yes Jane, that's true. But so have you, and so have I. Our routines – all of our routines – have been interrupted by the 24/7 demands of caring for an infant. I believe your mother is thriving under the new circumstances while you are feeling put out and petulant about being ignored because the baby requires so much attention." Maura looked over at Jane and could feel the tempest brewing in the teapot. "You hate to be ignored Jane. By your mother, by Tommy, by me. You've admitted it yourself, many times."

"You're right," Jane grumbled, "I do hate to be ignored. But that's not it, Maur. Well, not all of it anyway." Jane thought for a minute before continuing. "Ok, here goes...I feel like we're living _Little House on the Prairie_ in there. I don't remember signing up for a full time family any time recently, or ever for that matter. It all just sort of happened...and, you know, suddenly I'm living the American dream..._Little House on the Prairie_ style, only it's not my damn dream! I mean I don't hate it, not totally, sometimes I even like it, but Christ Maura, at least Charles and Caroline got to sleep together at night...".

Maura snapped her head sideways to look at Jane, confused now, and gripping the wheel...her eyes held questions and it dawned on Jane what she had just said..."Eyes on the road Maura," she barked, "I didn't mean it that way."

Maura relaxed, eyes on the road again. "Jane, you are going to have to find a better way to explain your feelings. This...this _Little House on the Prairie_ analogy is just not working for me."

Jane sighed, they were almost to her apartment building. "Maura, I was only trying to get at the fact that they – you know, Charles and Caroline, the Little House parents – they chose that life, to have kids, to spend every waking minute devoted to family. And what I meant by them getting to sleep together at night, well I just meant that there was at least something in it for them...I didn't choose this, we didn't choose this...what's in it for us?"

"Jane, if sleeping with me would make you feel better about suddenly inheriting a full time family, then we can certainly have that discussion." Maura laughed inwardly, knowing Jane was probably feeling embarrassed now and quite possibly more frustrated than before. Teasing Jane was fast becoming her favorite pastime. Hmmmn, she thought suddenly, maybe I need to get a life too...

"Maura!" Jane interrupted her thoughts..."Be serious! I am drowning here!"

"Jane, the answer is really quite simple". Maura stopped the car in front of Jane's building. "We will simply ask Tommy and your mother if they can handle things on their own for a few hours so that we –the other parents – can have a date night".

"Date night," Jane groaned. "That's your answer. Maura, you are absolutely impossible sometimes. You know that?"

"Jane," Maura smiled at Jane, locking their eyes, "I miss spending time alone with you too. I get it, ok? Stop freaking out, go get some down time, and we'll work this out. Okay?" She reached out and patted Jane's leg reassuringly. Jane put her hand and Maura's and squeezed gently.

"Okay Maur. Thanks for getting it. Although you did make me sweat it there for a bit..." Jane smirked. "Now hurry home Mamacita, the family awaits...and Tommy has something really important to ask you." Jane got out of the car, ready to close the door. Now Maura looked worried. "Please be gentle with him, ok?"

"Jane!?" Maura called as the car door swung shut. Jane turned to wink at Maura as she climbed the stairs to her building. Feeling deliciously devilish for the first time in days, she stepped inside the building and breathed in deeply. Ah, she thought, free at last.


	3. About Today

**Disclaimer: The** **characters depicted in this work of fanfiction do not belong to me, but belong to that of Tess Gerritsen, Janet Tamaro and TNT. No infringement intended.**

**A/N - I had given this story up after seeing episode R&I episode 3.11. Once I saw what the writers had done with the baby on the doorstep storyline, I just couldn't continue this piece with all of its potential angst and complexity. This was never meant to be fluff piece and I lost heart in the direction I wanted to take this story in. Lately I have reconsidered and I think that by turning the story completely over to the AU, I can still continue in earnest and delve in the way I had first imagined. The show will only ever take things so far, and I know now from reading so much terrific Rizzoli and Isles Fanfiction that the substance is in the fandom. Whatever we can't get from the show, we get here. I love this site, and I am inspired to keep going despite TNT and JTam...:)**

Susan unlocked the door to her apartment and shut it behind her, flipping on the hall light. It was late. Weary and nursing a 5 star headache, she kicked off her flats and padded into the kitchen. She had eaten very little that day, but she really wasn't all that hungry. What she needed was a beer. A nice tall can of Old Milwaukee, her favourite, despite its hideous gender biased artwork. Popping the tab, she headed into the living room and flopped into her computer chair, hitting the power button on her Macbook Pro. She gulped greedily from the beer can, swallowed and leaned her head back, closing her eyes, groaning with the tension in her shoulders and hoping the beer would not only relax her, but kill the painful throb in her head.

It had been a long day. After covering the early breaking news of the abortion clinic bombing, she had stayed onsite all day to see what she might glean from investigators on the scene. _Sweet fuck all_, she thought dejectedly. The crowd of demonstrators continued to grow throughout the day, she'd taken time to talk to some of them. Always shocked by the seething vehemence of pro-life supporters, she'd sought out dialogue with more like-minded pro-choice demonstrators, vindicating her disgust at such a cowardly act of terrorism while still doing her job by building her story. She would be allowed a feature piece in future when the perpetrators were discovered, and developing background now was critical while the act was news and the outrage fresh. She had even managed to connect with a potential new interviewee for her documentary - they had plans to meet for coffee on the weekend to talk more about the project and whether the young woman might be willing to go public with such a private and personal decision. Susan looked forward to that, but the day was mostly a glaring reminder that no matter how much progress gets made around sensitive issues, there will always be dissent and outrage, and more sadly, violence and extremism.

Susan opened her eyes to see that her Mac had powered up. _Why did I even open this up_, she thought_. I was on the computer all freaking night at the station and there is nothing more I need to do that can't wait until tomorrow._ _Wait... Janet_...the thought flashed forward out of her subconscious and apparently her fingers since her g-mail account was now open. She scrolled down through her mail noting the absence of Janet's name in her inbox first. Sighing, she paged back up to the top. _Six months_, she scolded herself. _Six months and you still can't let go...idiot_! Granted, they did still write – not every day, and never the e-mails Susan would want most to read, or to write, but they did keep in touch. And Susan always perked up when she got mail from Janet, even knowing in advance that each exchange would just leave her sad. And empty. Again.

She scrolled through the mail again looking for names she recognized, subject lines of interest. Not far down, she spotted the subject header "ABOUT TODAY..." and opened it. She didn't recognize the sender, but was curious about the contents. The e-mail was written in large, block caps.

MS. MATHERS, I HOPE YOU ENJOYED TODAY'S LITTLE FIREWORKS SHOW. IT WAS STAGED FOR YOU. I MADE SURE NO ONE GOT HURT. BUT THIS ONE WAS FOR THE PUBLIC. I KNEW YOU WOULD FIND A WAY TO COVER IT. I HAVE FAMILIARIZED MYSELF WITH YOUR WORK IN NEW YORK. BUT BOSTON PROVIDES NEW AND INTERESTING OPPORTUNITIES. I MYSELF AM WORKING ON A MORE PRIVATE STORY. ALSO WITH YOU IN MIND, BUT WITH SEVERAL CHAPTERS TO BE COMPLETED FIRST BEFORE THE END. WHICH IS WHERE YOU COME IN. I HAVE KNOCKED OFF 3 ALREADY. BUT HAVE 12 TO GO. AND THEN YOU. IN THE MEANTIME I WILL CONTINUE TO KEEP MYSELF AND YOU ENTERTAINED. BEST REGARDS MS. MATHERS.

Susan stared at the screen as an indistinguishable mix of shock, confusion, anger and abject terror coursed through her. She did not recognize the name or the service provider: abc-rkt. A quick search told her the host did not exist – and she got no hits looking for Morgan Taller. Her anxiety was increasing rapidly. She downed the rest of her beer and got up to grab another from the fridge. Instead of going back to the computer, she paced. Rapidly back and forth, running her hand through her hair and taking larger and faster than necessary gulps of beer, like if she could only drink fast enough she might wind up drunk enough to numb the chill she felt radiating from the inside out.

_WHAT THE FUCK, WHAT THE FUCK, WHO IS THIS ASSHOLE. WHAT DOES HE WANT. WHAT DOES HE MEAN. WHY ME. WHAT DOES HE MEAN. WHAT DOES HE MEAN, WHAT DOES HE MEAN. _

Her thoughts grew more frantic, her breathing more shallow. She had to calm down.

_Go look again. Just breathe and go look again. Dammit Susan, go figure this thing out. Look. Again. _

She sat back down in front of the screen and read the words again. I HAVE KNOCKED OFF 3 ARLEADY. Chapters. No, not chapters. She is pretty damned sure of that. She may not know what this is, but she knows it's not a joke. There are meanings and clues here. And she is too fucking stupid to figure it out. I HAVE KNOCKED OFF 3 ALREADY.

_What if I'm right? What if this means what I think it does? What do I do, what do I do, what do I do? _She took several deep breaths and tried to collect her thoughts. _The police! I have to let the police know about this! _She shook her head, exasperated it had taken her this long to arrive at the obvious. Another thought struck her. Seconds later, she was logged into the WJZT network and searching live footage related to key words: Boston Police Homicide.

Two things were clear to her as she watched archived clips about recent homicides in Boston: One, the number of murders in Boston was more staggering than she would have imagined; and two, Boston Homicide seemed to be solidly represented by the same two people over and over again: Sergeant Vincent Korsak and Detective Jane Rizzoli. Of the two, she became more focused on the female detective.

Korsak looked like a stand up guy, but she wanted a woman looking into this. The highly decorated Detective Jane Rizzoli would see her tomorrow. Susan Mathers was a respected journalist, she would handle this strategically and confidently. This was no 911 call, this was an investigation. Of that she was certain. She printed off 3 copies of the hideous e-mail, placed them in a folder, and grabbed yet another beer out of her fridge. Sitting down again, and knowing she would not sleep tonight, she went back to her web brower and typed in Jane Rizzoli. Sure enough there were enough hits to keep her busy for the next few hours. She needed the distraction.


	4. Text Roulette

Jane felt a vibration against her leg and jumped slightly. She'd been dozing a little but groggily identified her phone as the source of the strange sensation. Without getting up, she raised herself slightly and dug into the pocket of her sweats to pull out her phone. She looked at the screen. Maura. She rolled over on her back, smiling.

_**M: Let me guess: you are sprawled on your couch drinking beer and watching Red Sox reruns. And you had pizza for dinner. **_

Jane laughed, feeling lighter and happier than she had all night. Freedom had not been the balm she had expected since she found herself missing the family chaos. Well not so much actually. What she really missed was Maura. _And that, Rizzoli, is getting to be an all too familiar sentiment, you need therapy!_

_**J: Close . Pizza, water, Sox.**_

_**M: What? No beer? I thought you had an independence celebration planned? **_

_**J: Mnn. Didn't work out. All my beer is at YOUR house! **_

_**M: You could have come back. **_

_**J: What, and swallow my pride?! Never!**_

_**M: Tell me, how was family freedom night? ;)**_

_**J: You are SO laughing at me, aren't you?**_

_**M: A little.**_

_**J: Very smug Maura! But since you asked, maybe it wasn't such a good idea *groan* Do not tell anyone, I will have to kill you!**_

_**M: Your secret is safe, I would not want to tarnish your reputation as the righteous, fierce, stubborn, badass you pretend to be. **_

_**J: PRETEND? I am totally badass, and you know it. ;)**_

_**M: Yes. Well, I do wish you had dragged your badass back over here when you realized how much you were missing me...**_

Jane, who had been on a roll and enjoying the amusing conversation, stopped typing. Maura was playing with her again. It felt flirty. And a little dangerous. Jane had actually scolded herself just minutes ago for the very strong and sudden realization that indeed, she had been missing Maura. But Maura had triggered this particular chain of text roulette, was it time to turn the tables? Or should she do the totally unexpected and respond honestly. Her phone vibrated again.

_**M: Jane? **_

_**J: I'm here. **_

_**M: And?**_

_**J: I'm thinking...**_

_**M: Do you want to go and text me back when you stop thinking? **_

_**J. No. **_

_**M .Well then you will need to stimulate me Jane.**_

Jane catapulted out of reverie instantly. Of all the things to come out of that woman's mouth yet, this was by far the least subtle.

_**J: MAURA!**_

_**M: I just meant that I need for this to be a two way interaction in which you and I participate equally. While I am engaged, you seem distracted and I am willing to let you think and get back to me when you have something more to say.**_

Jane fired off the next text before she was halfway through Maura's text.

_**J: I know what you meant Maura. But sometimes you start doing that word thing and it really throws me off. I was just about to give in and tell you that I really was missing you, and now I am totally NOT! **_

_**M: HA! I knew it. I'm stimulated now. Thank you Jane. **_

Jane rolled her eyes and pictured Maura's triumphant, flirty little grin. She groaned. That woman would be the death of her.

_**J: And you are missing me too. **_

_**M: And you know this how?**_

_**J: Well first you wanted my badass back over there, and now you're spending whatever is left of your night playing text games with me. **_

_**M: You're right. I miss you too. **_

_**J: Ok, so when is date night?**_

_**M: Tomorrow. **_

_**J: Can't be. Tomorrow night is Sunday. Family dinner night. **_

_**M: These days, every night is family dinner night. Angela and Frankie will be here to help Tommy with the baby. Your mother agrees we need a night out. She doesn't want us to feel sewn in.**_

Jane chuckled, despite feeling weird about the way this conversation was unfolding.

_**J: You mean hemmed in Maura. **_

_**M: Got it. Where are you taking me Jane?**_

_**J: Jesus Maura, where do you want to go? It's not like this is a real date, let's just go out and have some fun. Dinner, maybe a movie, walk along the Charles. Nothing special.**_

_**M: Any time spent with you is always special Jane. **_

Jane's mind wandered off again. What is Maura up to? Yes, they flirted. All the time. But something about this day, this night, this conversation was awakening rapid-fire thoughts and feelings in Jane simultaneously. She realized she was feeling nervous, but excited too. Mentally and physically, she was humming. And Jane sensed that Maura was being very deliberate in her pace and delivery, texting maybe providing the physical distance they seemed to need to flirt a little more indiscriminately than usual; not one part of Jane's brain believed for a second that Maura didn't know exactly what she was doing. What they were both doing. Where they were probably going. But would they ever actually get there?

_**M: Jane?**_

_**J: Ditto Maur. **_

_**M: So macho.**_

_**J: You know it. It's late Maur. Let's get some sleep. We'll need energy for date night. **_

_**M: And why will need energy Jane? ;)**_

Jane stared at the screen in disbelief. The woman was incorrigible!

_**J: To stay up past nine Maura! Going to bed now. Go to sleep! xo**_

_**M: Good night Jane. Sleep well. XO**_

Jane placed her phone on silent, slipped it back into her sweats, and got up to brush her teeth. Turning the TV off and the lights out, she stretched and shook her head. Yes, Doctor Maura Isles was a true piece of work. _And you, Jane Rizzoli, are starting to become just a little obsessed with your best friend. _Sinking into bed and pulling the covers up, she closed her eyes and prayed for deep, uninterrupted and dreamless sleep. The last thing she needed tonight was Maura Isles invading her dreams. Jane knew instinctively that no good would come of that.


End file.
